Trainer
by Twitfield
Summary: When Silph Co. is stormed by Team Rocket, then liberated by a strange, unnaturally powerful Pokemon, Dean's life is transformed. -Note: Rated T due to blood and death. Mix between anime and games(As always) First fanfic.


The soft clack of the keys rang out through the office yet again, the endless repetitiveness of the typing only matched by the utter disinterest and boredom of the employees responsible for the machines. The employees at the administrative office of Silph Co. sighed almost imperceptibly, numbed to the feeling of utter boredom through hours of repetition, typing commands to the lowers, and answering the demands of the highers. It was a sort of Purgatory for the middle class; above the Hell of the working class, but below the Heaven of the Aristocrat pokemon trainers and the CEO's of the major corporations.

It was here that Dean found himself working, overseeing production of pokeballs. He frowned slightly, balancing his head in his hands as he waited to receive any questions from the workers, or more uncommonly an order from the Manager. He silently typed out an order to finish one thousand more pokeballs, then return home for the day, the clicking of the keyboard ringing out from his small desk. Melinda, his neighbor, clicked away, her eyes locked onto the screen, waiting for the Manager to respond to her email about a scientist off the coast of Vermillion whose laboratory had stopped responding to transmissions. Something about cloning technology, Dean thought.

"Melinda," he whispered, breaking the monotone silence. "How much time do we have left?"

"Only thirty minutes till 6:00," She whispered back, glancing around to make sure no one else had heard. They didn't want another pay cut for talking, after all. Assured that he had no other inquiries, she returned to her work.

He smiled happily. He dreamt of leaving this place, to abandon everything he had just to afford that one little pokeball, to find that one little pokemon, and to become great. Any pokemon would work, even a magikarp. Anything to escape the crushing boredom of the middle class, and to live the life of an adventurer.

His fantasy was abruptly interrupted when Tanner, the head of security, stood up, a grim look on his face. "We have a problem, call the Saffron PD, quickly."

As soon as he finished the sentence, the door snapped in and slammed into the wall with a dull thud, splintered wood flying everywhere. A squad of men dressed in black body armor and face masks stormed in, arboks, weezings, and the odd golbat following. The men started yelling orders, screaming at everyone to get on the ground. Tanner stood up and drew his security pistol and mandatory pokeball, which Dean knew contained his powerful Machamp.

As Tanner opened fire and released his Machamp, the Rockets own pokemon surged forward to meet the powerful titan in battle, and the Rockets reached for their own rifles on their backs. Two quickly fell to Tanners fire, both hit in the shoulders, but the rest quickly avenged their comrades, and Tanner fell to the ground with three bulletholes in his chest. The Rocket responsible for the shots stepped forward, standing over Tanner, and shot a bullet into his head, then went back to check on the other Rockets.

Machamp, meanwhile, was wreaking havoc among the Rockets pokemon, smacking Weezings to the ground and stomping on the Arboks slithering towards him. The Rockets, Tanner taken care of, opened fire on Machamps back. The bullets bounced off his thick hide, and he turned towards them and roared, preparing a dynamic punch in each of his four hands. An arbok, sensing its opportunity, lunged forward and wrapped around Machamps throat with its body, sinking its enormous, poisonous fangs into Machamp's face. Machamp fell to his knees from the brutal ambush, the other arboks piled on top of him in a mass of writhing bodies, each one of them striking with poisonous bites. The weezing sent in thunderbolts every now and then, and the golbat spat in sludge bombs. Before long, Machamp, overloaded by the poison and lightning, was dead on the floor, dark purple liquid mingled with crimson blood flowing out of its wounds.

It all happened within ten seconds.

Another group of Rockets walked in, but this one was more orderly, more strict. Leading the group of twenty was a handsome brown haired italian man, with sharp, aristocrat features. He wore a night black suit with a white shirt beneath it, and a tie the color of blood. At a motion of his hand, the four remaining Rockets from the original squad rushed forward, and the injured members were propped up by some of the other Rockets, who started to treat their wounds. The leader of the group, once securing all the hostages, had two of his escorts take positions guarding the doorway and the hostages, then followed up the staircase the first team had gone up, towards the CEO's office.

Dean, for the first time of his life, was at a loss for words. His eyes flickered from Tanner, to the dead Machamp, to the two Rockets patrolling the room, an arbok beside each. Melinda, who had cowered into a corner as the battle raged on, somehow managed to find the courage to speak up. "W-what," She whispered to the Rocket passing her "are you going to do to us?"

The Rocket stopped, and even though Dean couldn't see his face, he could hear the smirk in his voice "Now now," He said mockingly, his voice holding a tone of barely restrained ferality, "We'll cross that road when we get there, but for now," His voice had gradually become vicious, none of the mocking kindness present anymore, "You can just sit down and SHUT UP!" Melinda cowered back into her corner at the Rockets yell.

Dean simply sat there, watching the Rockets mill around. An arbok slithered past him and hissed, but Dean couldn't bring himself to care. As there was nothing else to do, Dean closed his eyes, and slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.

Dean woke up to frantic, desperate voices and gunfire. He bolted upright from his spot on the floor and looked around for the sources of the voices, and he quickly determined it was coming from downstairs. The two Rockets were taking cover behind a desk, both aiming their rifle at the door, which reverberated, barely containing some unforeseen force. As the voices downstairs were abruptly cut off and the Rockets pokemon took up positions near the door, Dean felt a chill run down his spine. There were slow footsteps coming up the stairs, and they almost-but not quite drowned out a nearly undetectable pit pat, the sound indicating something small was coming up alongside the other, larger being. As the footsteps stopped around halfway up, the other sound continued, stopping just outside the door. Silence reigned supreme, no one daring to make a move lest they accidentally trigger whatever was outside.

The doors suddenly blew off of its hinges from an enormous blast of force, and Dean felt his hairs stand on end as the doors slammed into the wall directly beside him, crackling with electricity more powerful than any one element had a right to be. Standing in the doorway, cheeks crackling with that same strength so foreign to humans yet so natural to pokemon. It glanced around the room with cold contempt, the look out of place on a pokemon as kind, if ill-tempered, as a pikachu. A low growl echoed from the back of its throat.

Dean watched warily as the first attack rang out, a storm of bullets from the Rockets. The Pikachu rushed with a quick attack into the air, and sent out twin thunderbolts from each of its cheeks. The thunderbolts seemed to be restrained so as not to hurt the Rockets, but each was more than enough to take out the Rockets from the battle and then some, as evidenced by the smoke gently rising off the Rockets unconscious bodies. Their pokemon rushed forward, and they quickly fell in the same fashion, their bodies charred and the Pikachu finished off the last of the pokemon, the slow footsteps started up the stairs again, revealing a boy no older than ten, dressed in a faded red jacket and pokemon league hat. He glanced around the room, before he walked towards the flight of stairs to the upper offices, his pikachu leading ahead of him.

Dean slowly stood up from his spot on the floor and walked towards the Rockets, kneeling down to check their pulse. They were still alive, the Pikachu had just overloaded their senses. He pulled a pokeball off each of their belts, and recalled the two muscular arboks. He dropped those onto the floor, then pulled the second and last pokeball of each of their belts. He clicked one of them in his hands, curious to see what was inside but ready to recall it if it proved dangerous or aggressive.

It clicked.

Dean stared at the pokeball in pure disbelief. He repeated the action with the second ball, and it clicked in the same way.

Empty.

He inconspicuously stuffed the pokeballs into his jacket pocket, glancing around to make sure none of his coworkers had seen him; none had even spared him a glance, too caught up staring in awe at the red trainers back. Dean took the Rockets pokeballs and rifles, then slowly made his way to his spot of floor, putting down the pokeballs next to him and the rifle near him just incase they woke up. He felt the pokeballs pressing against the fabric of his jacket, just small enough to not be seen, and he shivered slightly in excitement. He fell into a daydream, as dreams of a better life flooded his mind, and he smiled amidst the wreckage of the once orderly office.

His caution for the Rockets was unnecessary, it seemed, as the Saffron PD soon arrived, dressed in full league regalia and armed with several powerful pokemon. One of Lance's famed G-men led them, distinguished from the rest of the soldiers by her sleek black body armor and six ultra balls, each one notched by years of use, strapped to her belt, each one containing an undoubtedly powerful and well-trained pokemon. Her face had the sharp features of most trainers, and her eyes were a steely gray that reflected years of experience. She growled at her squad to secure the Rockets, and her eyes scanned the room for the Rockets pokemon. Her eyes settled on the two pokeballs and rifle next to him, and she beckoned him to come over.

Keeping his hands well away from the large rifle, Dean picked up the two small pokeballs that contained the arboks and slowly pushed himself up from the wall. Walking towards the officer, he was suddenly very self conscious of the two pokeballs in his pocket. They suddenly seemed to weigh a thousand pounds each, and his legs felt like lead, but he continued his journey to the officer, who was still watching him patiently.

As he stopped in front of the officer, she held out her hands expectantly. He dropped the two pokeballs in her hands, and she twirled them between her fingers dextrously before putting them deep into a pocket in her armor.

"What pokemon inside?" She questioned, her voice strict and commanding. She quickly found his eyes, and he found himself unable to look away. Her eyes seemed to bore into him, leaving no room for lies or half truths.

"Two arbok's." He answered, keeping his face as level as possible.

"Anything else important to know?" She seemed to already know the answer to the question, her voice sounded dull and rehearsed, and she didn't seem very interested.

"The people before told you about the trainer?"

"Yes." she said, her voice seemed to hold an undertone of happiness, mostly because she didn't have to listen to another long winded explanation, Dean suspected. "wiped out Rockets in seconds with a pikachu, just as the others said?"

"Yeah," Dean said casually, slowly growing more comfortable in the officers presence, "I assume you're going to finish searching the building?"

Her voice was back to its old strictness, "Obviously, now" She raised her voice higher till everyone in the room could hear it, "You are all free to leave whenever you want. There is an ambulance outside if anyone is wounded, but other than that, please just go to wherever you live and stay there. A league official will report to your residence soon."

As she finished, Dean turned and strode towards the stairway. A few officers looked at him suspiciously, but none stopped him. He walked down flight after flight of stairs, attracting many strange looks as he blew past the scientists and others, who all moved down at a rather leisurely pace. Dean practically slammed through the doors of the lobby, and turned south towards Route 6.

He barrelled down the road, stopping by his apartment to grab a small bag of clothes and all the unspoiling food he had. He was out of his building as fast as he had come, and in ten minutes he stood outside the pokemart on the edge of town. He stared up at the blue roofed building, it seemed larger than it should have been, now that he was about to enter it. Dean took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and stepped inside.

A mechanical ding rang out as he entered the store, alerting the clerks to his presence. They greeted him with a stiff "welcome" and looked at him suspiciously. Dean supposed it was his own fault, after all, he was still dressed in his torn up work shirt and pants, hardly fitting clothes for a trainer. Making a mental note to change as soon as possible, he walked up to the clerk.

"Twenty packets of trainer food please." He said curtly, meeting their eyes with his own impassive gaze. He had faced down a G-man without giving up anything useful, he wouldn't be intimidated by some store clerks.

"Of course sir." The teenager said, obviously untrusting of the man in front of him, but unable to do anything. The teen quickly took the packets down from the shelf, and placed the trainer food down of the counter, "thirty pokedollars." Dean frowned at the high price, put nonetheless shelled out the money. The cashier put the money into the register, then handed Dean the food.

Dean stepped outside and pushed the food into his backpack, then turned down the road towards Route 6. He walked forward, too weighed down by the heavy bag to run anymore. He walked forwards as swift as he could, attracting many odd looks from the police officers who recognized him from the building. Once, he passed the G-man from the raid. She passed over his face, but her attention immediately slipped back towards him as she remembered his face. She was too late; he had already disappeared into the crowds of Saffron. By noon, he had arrived at Route 6

As he walked through Route 6, he started thinking of his plan. If the league got to his apartment and found he wasn't there, they would dog him until he got out of Kanto. That was why we was going to Vermillion.

If he could reach Vermillion without being caught, he would have to get to the harbor, from there he could go anywhere. Johto was too dangerous, he thought, as it shared governments with Kanto. Lance's G-men had full jurisdiction there, and he would surely be found eventually. Hoenn was a possibility, but with the current war between Aqua and Magma, along with the incompetent champion, Wallace, it was incredibly dangerous. Unova and Kalos were too far away, and as a result Kanto didn't offer ferries to either region.

That was where Sinnoh came in.

He knew very little of the Sinnoh region, besides that they had an incredibly powerful Champion. Cynthia, Dean recalled her name was, had so far been completely undefeated by any challengers for her title, her incredibly powerful pokemon such as her Lucario gauging the opponents true strength. If she deemed them worthy, she would release her nigh undefeatable Garchomp. If not, they weren't ready for her anyway, and she would quickly crush each one of their pokemon easily.

She was an obviously powerful champion, second only to Lance, the Dragon Master. Dean fondly remembered their last match, in a tournament between all champions. He had enjoyed the others, but everyone knew that it would come down to the two titans in the end.

The battle had been devastating to both teams, and in the end it had come down to Lance's star Dragonite vs Cynthia's Garchomp, which had just torn through Lance's tired Kingdra. It was a harsh battle, but once Dragonite was in the air, Garchomp simply couldn't match its sheer speed. Garchomp were built for the ground, after all, and only flew when absolutely necessary, due to their bodies being weakened by the incredibly frigid temperatures. The match quickly ended with Garchomp's mighty body bloodied and broken from Dragonite's sheer power. Dragonite had grabbed Garchomp in midair and spat an overpowered hyper beam right into its snarling maw, slamming the monster of a ground type into its own element with enough force to create an enormous crater.

Lance respected Cynthia immensely, and the feeling was mirrored by her, but there was no chance that she would permit G-men into her territory.

That was assuming they even searched for him in far off Sinnoh. They would most likely just check the Kanto-Johto region for the rogue citizen, and maybe Hoenn. The league of Kanto took citizens using pokemon very serious due to their concealability and destructive power, but the other leagues hardly shared these fears.

Dean supposed their fear wasn't unfounded. After all, most of Team Rocket's soldiers were poor citizens who were paid well for their deeds. Dean could sympathize with the grunts, after all, they had no choice, and some semblance of mercy. It was the elites, like the ones who had stormed Silph Co. that were the problem. They were brutally efficient, and notorious for spreading death wherever they went; Dean thought back to Tanner being mercilessly executed, and involuntarily shuddered.

He was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by a scream of pure rage. A furious mankey leaped out at him from an old oak tree. He instinctively dove to the side, and a fist hurtled through the air where his face just was. The Mankey whipped its eyes back to him and lunged again at his waist; at its speed he had no chance of dodging. He grunted as the small pokemon slammed into his torso; it had immense strength, but simply lacked the weight to knock him over.

That mattered little, however, when the Mankey scrambled up to his chest and slammed its fist into Dean's jaw, knocking him back from the impact. Dean stumbled over a rock, and slammed heavily onto the ground. The Mankey released another ear-grinding screech and leaped down towards him, fist leveled for a killing blow right at Dean's skull. Dean rolled to the side as the Mankey's fist slammed dangerously close to his head, and Dean, seeing a rock about as big as his palm, picked it up and slammed it into the Mankey's skull. It started bleeding at the skull, but it only roared in fury at Dean's attack and pushed itself up. Dean backpedalled and spit some blood out of his mouth, and the beast screeched and sprinted forward to him.

Dean swore and kicked it harshly as it surged him, and it flew through the air before impacting an oak tree. He rushed forward and slammed the rock into it's head, looking to quickly end the fight. It growled at him feebly, its anger fighting against its body's urge to give up, and slowly fell into unconsciousness.

Dean quickly reached his hand into his bag and, fumbling around a bit, grabbed a pokeball. With a pokemon's regenerative properties, it would awake in a matter of minutes, and he needed it captured before that.

Grasping onto his pokeball, he dropped it onto the Mankey's still form. The Mankey was absorbed in a torrent of red light into the pokeball. The ball twitched once, then twice. There was a tense pause, as the pokeball sat on the ground, trembling slightly from the Mankey's efforts to free itself. Dean eyed it warily, and absentmindedly picked up a large, pointed stick, almost shaped like a spear. He leveled it at the pokeball, just in case. The precaution was unneeded; the pokeball gave one final blip as its unwilling occupant ceased struggling, and sat there in the grass, perfectly still. Dean dropped the rock and stick, and a grin slowly widened across his face.

"YES!" He whooped, pumping his fist into the air. He strode over to the pokeball and picked it up, quickly putting it into a special pocket into his bag.

**Dean noticed it had gotten rather dark, and walked into a small clearing off the path to set a tent. After it was prepared, he slipped into a sleeping bag inside his tent, and quickly fell asleep.**


End file.
